


Until the Bells

by AZ-5 (elim_garak)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:16:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elim_garak/pseuds/AZ-5
Summary: Kind. He was kind. His silver-haired prince with a dreamy smile and those sad, lilac eyes. He was brave, too, brave and fierce and gentle, soft-spoken and graceful, and skilled with sword and lance. But most of all … he was kind. And generous. Generous with his words. Generous with his smiles. Generous with his heart.
Relationships: Jon Connington/Rhaegar Targaryen
Kudos: 20





	Until the Bells

The stairs were endless, in his memory as they had been in life. One step, followed by another, then another, and more yet to come. He was an old man with the heart of a young boy. He was weary, and seasoned, and grim, and spent, and broken. But then, as soon as he reached the top of the winding staircase, he was a boy again, hopeful, young … trembling. 

“Your father’s lands are beautiful,” his prince had said. 

His lavish silvery hair teased the sun, shimmering, sparkling, gleaming, a blinding halo of light that blew in the wind, wreathing a smiling face. 

_Beautiful_ _ , _ was all Jon had really heard. 

“One day it will all be mine,” he said, for he had to say something, lame as it was boasting of meager prospects to the face of a crown prince. 

Rhaegar’s eyes lingered a moment where their mesmerized gaze appeared to drink in the vastness of plains and sea, their depths catching the sunlight as he relished the sights, once lilac, once purple, once eye-piercing cobalt with sparkles of violet-blue. 

“It must make you very proud,” he said at last, softly, shifting those sad, smiling eyes to Jon’s face. “To be a lord of all this one day.”

“It’s …” Jon could hardly think in words, let alone form a coherent sentence. Where his heart had been beating just moments ago, there was now a fluttering mess. “I hope to be worthy,” he rasped in a voice low and distant, like a wistful echo lost in the mists of time. 

For a moment, Rhaegar appeared to study him through those beautiful, hooded eyes. A gust of wind blew a shimmering fall of hair across his porcelain face, like a lover’s tease. The prince laughed and pushed it away in a movement haphazard and graceful.

“You will be,” he said, smiling, assured, unflustered. “You  _ are,” _ he added, and Jon’s chest swelled up with pride.

Kind. He was kind. His silver-haired prince with a dreamy smile and those sad, lilac eyes. He was brave, too, brave and fierce and gentle, soft-spoken and graceful, and skilled with sword and lance. But most of all … he was kind. And generous. Always generous. Generous with his words. Generous with his smiles. Generous with his heart.

“Could we stay a while longer?” the prince asked. 

_ We could stay forever, _ Jon thought, but what he said was, “They may be looking for us. Before supper … My father …”

“Let them look.” Rhaegar’s lips curved in an impish smirk. He unfastened his sword belt, pulled himself off a rain-corroded stone and swung into a crenel with precision and grace that halted Jon’s breath. 

“We could stay until the bells in the sept toll for the evening prayers,” Jon suggested, finally mustering the courage to come closer, trembling like an autumn leaf in the wind.

A shadow flickered across Rhaegar's face, in Jon's memory as it had in life. He smiled that small, broken smile of his, and rested a soft hand upon Jon’s shoulder. 

“Until the bells then,” he said, a mere whisper, a solemn promise echoing through the hollow caverns of time, lifting the dust of days, hopes, and smiles long forgotten; through the thorny passage of grief that lingered still. 


End file.
